


Cold Fire, Bright Light

by naberiie



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alderaan, Commissioned fic, Gen, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tiender, commission fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 05:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15332364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naberiie/pseuds/naberiie
Summary: There is a flash of light on the horizon, and Jesse's mind balks at what it means.Someone sets off a fireworks display during the Alderaanian Gala of Lights, but all Jesse hears is incoming artillery. Normally, he could have handled this. But he was put in charge of protecting a young civilian girl - Iole Tapalo of Naboo - and the threat becomes that much more real, that much more terrifying.So he grabs his charge and runs.





	Cold Fire, Bright Light

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fill for @tiender on tumblr; set during _From Which Stars Have We Fallen, To Meet Each Other Here? _.__
> 
> __Thank you so much for both commissioning me for this piece, as well as your patience! I adore Jesse and love every chance I get to write him._ _

Though golden light from the Great Hall spilled over the courtyard and into the dark emerald gardens of Aldera Palace from doors and windows thrown wide, Jesse was of the opinion that had it only been lit with the stars above, the gala would still have been the most incredible sight he had ever seen.

Beings from every corner of the galaxy strolled about in pairs or groups of three or more; lively music skirted underneath the sparkling conversation; couples danced on the smooth stone or drank deeply from the flowing wine; children raced by with sparklers and poppers and bright laughter. It was almost too much to take in all at once, so he kept his head on a constant swivel – out of the corner of his eye, he could see Echo doing the same, if not quite as amused as Jesse – as they followed their young charge on her wild tour of the Gala of Lights.

Well, not so much “followed” as “both he and Echo were currently being politely but  _ firmly _ dragged from one amusement to the next by the truly impressive strength and determined gusto of a very small and very excited child.”

Iole Tapalo of Naboo, eight standard years old but with an iron grip on their hands, was on a mission to try every single sweet she could find. She curtsied when others greeted her – Jesse’s heart swelled with pride as he watched other guests coo in delight over his charge as she dipped her dove-gray and green skirts to them – and spoke with lords, ladies, lairdes, princes, consorts, and empresses with ease; diligently keeping her promise to her sister to stay close to Jesse and Echo; but soon her pale green eyes would dart past the adults and towards the caterers’ tables that lined the palace courtyards. Echo had her tells down to a science: gripping her skirts meant excitement, swaying meant she was content, and two head tilts meant she was getting bored.

She was swaying now, left hand in Echo’s right, right hand in Jesse’s left, as they plotted their next move.

“What about the ones by the fountain?” Echo asked. Jesse could just barely hear the amusement in his voice as he gently shook her hand. “Don’t think we’ve gone over there just yet.”

“Oh! No, wait. I think… I think that’s the same as the one by the alcove, though. We tried those, remember, Echo?”

“Ah, of course. The green cakes, right?”

“Yeah!” She jumped up. “With the  _ glitter! _ ”

Jesse laughed out loud – he hadn’t been expecting the amount of glitter dusted on top of those cakes and was certain he’d still be finding the stuff months from now – and Iole turned to giggle with him, jumping up and down again. He shifted the boxes of sweets and cakes and confections he had tucked under his right arm and gestured down the gentle sloping lawns towards the lake. “What about down there? There might be some hiding out by the shore.”

Iole gasped, and a tiny, gentle smile tugged at the corners of Jesse’s mouth as he let himself wonder, just for a moment, what it would be like to be a father. To have a family, a partner; to have children of his own.

He didn’t know if it was possible, but the thought of it…

Just for a moment.

And then Iole was tugging him impatiently by the hand.

The carefully manicured lawn sloped gently down to the lakeshore. Floating candledroids lit a smooth stone path wide enough for a squad of clones to walk shoulder to shoulder with ample room to spare. Every step left a faintly shimmering print in the stones;  _ must be the same tech as the Hall _ , Jesse thought as they followed the rapidly cooling air to the calm waters. Here, by the lake, the atmosphere was quieter, more intimate than the raucous party in the Palace, but children raced along the black-pebbled shore waving sparklers, racing on the lawns, racing with the exhilaration of childhood unfettered by fear.

Iole watched a gang sprint by, cackling at a private joke, but she was too focused on the smiling Togruta woman behind the caterer’s table tucked in between two marble statues.

The Togruta woman – her montrals and lekku decorated in fine akul jewelry – came around the table and knelt as Iole let go of her guards’ hands and stepped forward, eyes wide. “Hello, love – what can I get for you?”

As Iole hummed over her options, Echo cleared his throat and said quietly so that only Jesse could hear, “Have you noticed?”

Jesse’s eyes flicked towards the two marble statues flanking the table. Hidden the shadows of the still, carved faces were two of Rex’s tiny hand-configured cameras and mics. He nodded, scanning the gardens and his trained eyes picked at least three more. “They did a good job on security; there’s probably not a hidden place in this entire palace right now.”

Echo snorted. “Definitely not. I don’t think anyone wants to take any risks right now.”

“Do you think they’ll be successful tonight?” Jesse couldn’t lie to himself; a not-insignificant part of him was extremely bemused with the seemingly inconsequential conversation that hid many meanings. He thought they sounded like the handmaidens: polite words laced with subterfuge like delicate poison.

But Echo wasn’t listening. “Where’d Iole go?”

Jesse snapped back to the present and dropped his gaze to Iole’s approximate height. The Togruta woman was wiping her hands with the embroidered apron around her waist. Two cakes were missing from her display. Iole had vanished.

He cursed as Echo stepped forward and asked where their charge had gone off. The woman looked up, looked around in equal surprise, and then frowned. “I’ve… I’ve no idea, she was just here… Maybe towards the lake, with the older children?”

Jesse’s guts twisted in unease. Akantha, Iole’s elder sister, had repeatedly stressed that the eight-year old was liable to wandering. “Take your eyes off her for a second and she’ll be gone,” she had warned. “Towards anything that catches her eye.” He turned as Echo thanked the woman and scanned the lakeshore, but there was no sign of Iole’s green-gray dress anywhere.

“She might have also gone to the gardens,” the Togruta woman said slowly. “There are games and things for the little ones in there.”

“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll find her,” Jesse reassured her. “She can’t have gone too far.”

“We’ll have better luck finding her if we split up, I think. I’ll take the gardens, if you want to search by the shore?” Echo said briskly, slipping into ARC trooper command mode. “She probably went to find more sweets.”

“She’d also been eyeing those sparklers, though.”

“Right. Then we’d best pay close attention to groups of children; she might have gotten swept up with one.”

“Yes, sir.” Though he gave the orders smoothly, Jesse still noted the slight jump in Echo’s voice as he commanded an older brother; the faint fear of overstepping his rank. Jesse gave him a reassuring smile and turned towards the lake, like shimmering black velvet studded with diamonds. General Skywalker had asked if he’d like to be promoted to ARC, but Jesse was content to stay with his batch brothers for now.

Maybe some day he’d accept the promotion.

Cool air made gentle waves on the water’s surface as people walked along its shore, just out of reach of the lapping water. In the distance, on the horizon, several dark islands huddled together, but the unknown territory did not give rise to adrenaline. Though they were here on a mission – and though their young charge had slipped their watch – Jesse felt at ease here. It was a quiet night, and he knew there weren’t any clankers for systems around. The thought of it gave him some peace.

He made his way through the crowds, cutting his way smoothly towards the crest of a small hill. From here, he could see nearly the entire shoreline and the crowds playing along the water. Still no sign.

As he pivoted slightly to change his angle of scouting, there was a flash on the horizon.

His stomach dropped.

_ No. _

A bright flash, bright as the sun, from one of the islands.

_ No, no. _

Jesse’s heart twisted as his body snapped to attention of its own accord. His lungs drew in a deep breath, muscles tensed, fingers flexed for the blaster on his hip, as the light flashed upwards in a high, clear arc.

He watched it explode across the night sky and his guts began to churn.

_ No, they can’t be here – not here- _

And then the sound.

A sharp, high whistle pealed across the calm waters –  _ a flare. A warning. _ Ice slid down his spine and Jesse started to count the seconds, the seconds until the Gala was turned into a battlefield.

Mere minutes to find Iole, to get her to safety, before the artillery shells began to land.

He had promised Akantha that he would keep her safe.

He scrambled down the hill and sped along the beach once more, pushing down the fear, riding the adrenaline – he needed it to act calmly, to act swiftly but his hands were shaking, betraying his fear.

Another flash, another high, whining whistle, and Jesse flinched – his breaths were coming faster and harder, choking him as he struggled to keep a level head, struggled not to break into a full-out sprint – as the shell exploded somewhere behind him. Shrieks rose from the crowds and they started to move, cutting across his path, making it difficult to keep a steady path.

His heart beat so wildly against his ribcage it hurt, it  _ hurt _ , he needed to find Iole _ need to find her need to find her need to find her- _

The impact from the blast cracked through the night sky like the hull of a Star Destroyer splintering in half, and Jesse cried out in real, desperate fear as it thundered, echoed against his pounding, aching head. More people running, eyes wide and staring, warbled noises all around him – the crush of a panicking civilian throng, he’d never been trained for this, he didn’t know what to  _ do, _ he didn’t know how to  _ help _ all he could think of was finding Iole, finding the little one and getting her somewhere safe, somewhere the bombs couldn’t reach.

And now – the explosions rained down, all around him, turning the night into day – and Jesse’s heart leapt through his throat. The scene lost all color in the bright flashes of light. Over his panicking heartbeat he could only barely hear the screams of the crowds around him. Though his mind was a loop of  _ find Iole find Iole find Iole _ , the silence from Echo, from Sabé, from Captain Rex or General Skywalker or Senator Amidala rang loudly in his ringing ears.

He needed help.

He needed help, but the unit at his wrist was as silent as the grave.

_ Comms are cut, then, _ he thought as he pushed through a group – and there she was, sitting on the beach, watching the firestorm like it was entertainment. He saw the artillery reflected in her wide green eyes. Relief flooded through his veins but not for long: high whines, bright light.

He darted forward – she smiled when she saw him and that gave him some small relief, she wasn’t frightened, she was okay, she wasn’t injured – and scooped her into his arms, tucking her into his chest before turning back to the Palace at a dead sprint. The strikes didn’t seem to be landing there yet – the thought of bombs raining down on the city below made his guts churn – so it was the safest place for her.

He had to get her out of the way.

He’d come back for the rest of the civilians, get them off of the beach, get them away from the battlefield, once he was sure Iole Tapalo was safe.

His lungs and head burned, burned,  _ burned. _ Explosions shattered the illusion of peace and Jesse flinched with every strike; every strike meant death, blood, injuries. He could hear the whine of the artillery but not the explosions, not the screams.

He needed help, but the wrist comms were silent.

It was clear, excruciatingly clear, that he was utterly and entirely alone.

She squirmed in his arms but the barrage of artillery just beyond the perimeter of the Palace solidified his grip into durasteel. He tucked her head down, covered her with his body, as he sprinted back up the hill, back into the Palace, skirting around people who hadn’t yet realized they were under attack. Iole was easy to carry –  _ almost too easy, she’s so young, she’s so young _ – as he chose hallways at random, turning corners, head and heart pounding in time with the relentless strike outside the walls.

Iole was saying something to him, she was still squirming in his grip but every turn he took, he found himself near windows, or doors, or another courtyard –  _ is no place safe in this damned Palace? _ His feet skidded to a halt as the crack and whine of the shells made the chandeliers in the hallway shiver.

Chest heaving, he only realized Iole was trying to get his attention when she pinched the inside of his arm.

“ _ Jesse, _ put me  _ down!” _

“Iole – I can’t – it’s not safe-”

“But I wanted to watch the fireworks!” She whined and squirmed in his arms, her words not quite registering in his head.

_ The- _

“…fireworks,” he repeated, slowly, his heart still hammering a tattoo, hands still shaking. Cold dark fear still rolling down his spine, churning his guts.

_ Fireworks. _

Iole readjusted herself in his arms, her green eyes sparking with disappointment as she glared up at him. “Why’d you take me away? I wanted to watch the fireworks!”

His mouth went dry as another shell –  _ no, fireworks  _ – burst through the air and still he flinched, bracing himself for the impact that was never going to come. Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take one, two, three deep, gasping lungfuls of air. Trying to dislodge the shrieking alarms, the terror, in his head, he hardly registered Iole shifting so that she was sitting on his hip.

When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him.

He tried to smile, opened his mouth to say  _ I’m fine, I’m fine _ – but he  _ wasn’t _ , he wasn’t. An ear-shattering cascade of sharp rat-a-tat not-gunfire, not shells, pierced him from all sides and he had to lean against the wall for support.

Iole asked softly, “Do you not like fireworks?”

Jesse smiled shakily down at her, but she didn’t look convinced. Worry crept onto her little face so he tried to take a breath, tried to keep the tremor from his voice when he replied, “They just… they sound like something else.”

“…something bad?”

“Yeah. Something real bad.”

When he closed his eyes again, the images flashed behind his eyelids and even though he knew now that they were fireworks, that they were  _ only _ fireworks and not the signal of something altogether more horrible, not a warning sound before the land around him was torn, shattered, as brothers sent flying, screams echoing under their buckets – he couldn’t stop the onslaught.

_ There’s no danger, _ the rational part of his brain whispered.

_ You are seconds away from dying, and Iole will die, too _ , every other part of his body howled.

_ What are you going to do about it, trooper? _

_ Lay down and accept it? _

Jesse bent his head and shivered, a groan of agony leaking out between his teeth – and then Iole’s tiny hands were on his cheeks, clumsily stroking his face. Heart pounding, he couldn’t make out what she was saying to him, but he could hear the worry in her voice shift into fear.

_ You’re scaring her, trooper. _

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered – to Iole, or to the conditioning in his head? He was supposed to be built to withstand this. “I’m  _ sorry…” _

She made a sad, scared sound and Jesse felt utterly, entirely useless. He couldn’t move – he couldn’t breathe – he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking – he wanted to slide down the wall, cover his ears, and  _ weep _ -

“Jesse! Jesse, come on,  _ breathe _ – …Jesse, let go of Iole, come  _ on _ , brother-”

He forced his eyes open to find Echo standing in front of him, panting heavily – but not from fear or adrenaline; from following Jesse as he ran away – eyes narrowed and focused on Jesse’s own. His hands were outstretched to Jesse but Jesse could not command his arms anymore than he could command his nerves to stop the signals of ice-cold panic. He couldn’t let go of the little one in his arms.  _ What if this  _ _ is _ _ real? What if it’s a diversion, what if what if what if- _

Outside the windows, the firestorm continued.

Every crack through the night made him flinch, made him cower.

He shivered violently and tried to say something, anything, to Echo – to his little-brother-turned-commander – but his throat was dry and unforgiving. He tucked Iole to his chest, one hand protectively on her little head.

She reached up and stroked his cheeks again, and it was only then did he realize he was crying.

Echo put a hand on his shoulder and told him to breathe again. “Jesse, listen to me, it’s not real. Focus on me. Focus.”

And right behind him, dark green skirts snapping about her ankles as she raced down the hall, was Sabé.

He leaned against the wall as she came to a smooth halt in front of them, her normally calm brown eyes fraught with concern, her normally stoic, unflinching face twisted and pale as she said gently, “I saw what happened.”

_ Oh, gods. _

He’d picked up his young charge and sprinted like hell was breaking loose on his heels through a crowded gala. They were supposed to be undercover. He shuddered, disappointment at himself breaking over him in waves, and again he murmured, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… did I break our cover? Did they notice…?”

Before the words dried up on his tongue Sabé was already shaking her head. “Don’t worry about that just now, Jesse. Don’t worry about that.” She put a hand on his arm and said, “Captain Rex and I saw it all from the security center, and-”

She was interrupted by a flurry of fireworks and as one, her and Echo’s grip on Jesse’s arms tightened. Echo murmured softly, “Breathe, Jesse.”

Sabé jerked her head towards the windows, eyes burning. “They’re fireworks; they’re  _ only _ fireworks. Apparently, someone thought it would be entertaining to set them off without warning the Heads of Security – it wasn’t planned. We didn’t know it was coming but we’re shutting it down. It’ll be over soon.”

He nodded, and for a moment it was silent in the hallway as he focused on his breathing. Eyes open. Eventually, his grip on Iole loosened, and he slipped her into Echo’s arms, even though the sudden emptiness in his arms made him want to take her back. He could protect her; he  _ would _ protect her. He sank against the wall and put his hands on his knees, breathing deeply as Sabé rubbed his back and shoulder.

He focused on that, on the cold wall behind him, on the way his breaths felt cold and sharp in his lungs.

Iole, clinging to Echo’s neck as she watched, softly asked Sabé, “What’s wrong with him?”

She smiled sadly at the little one. “The fireworks sound like something very bad, Iole. They make his head and body think he’s in danger. It’s called a panic attack, and it’s very scary. It feels real. He was trying to protect you, too.”

“ _ Oh. _ ”

Echo nodded, his eyes mournful. “It’ll pass soon,” and suddenly Jesse remembered Echo and Fives’ first nights in the 501 st after Rishi. They’d lost nearly their entire squad and Jesse remembered finding Echo in the showers at some ungodly early hour, sitting on the cold tiles as ice water ran over his shaking shoulders. Eyes wide and distant, dazedly staring off at some distant horizon. He remembered Fives subtly refusing his food for a week, passing off his rations and distracting the others with loud bawdy jokes, refusing to eat until Kix had finally noticed that Fives’ hands shook while he cleaned his blaster.

The bags under Captain Rex’s eyes that steadily grew darker, and the tally marks that multiplied on his arms.

A part of his heart broke for what they had to become, for what they had to silently endure. What mental scars were they accumulating, as fast or faster than the physical ones that riddled their bodies?

“Echo, how are you feeling?” Sabé asked, still massaging Jesse’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, sir.”

There was a beat of silence, and when Jesse glanced up he found Sabé staring hard at Echo, searching his face for any indication otherwise. Her fingers pressed in at very specific points on his shoulder and arm, and Jesse felt himself relax under her touch.  _ Pressure points _ , he thought with some bitter relief. Using his body to counter his own mind.

He really was very grateful that the handmaidens had joined them for this mission.

She was still staring at Echo, until he shuffled his feet and repeated, “Really, sir. I’m fine. I’m just worried about Jesse.”

Only then did she look semi-convinced, and then she turned the brunt of her gaze to Jesse. “You’re in good hands here, Jesse. I’m going to go check in on the others, make sure they’re doing okay. I’ll check back in after a while; Iole…?”

She perked up in Echo’s arms at the sound of her name. Sabé went on, “There should be a quiet spot on the third-floor balcony in the Great Hall, where Akantha and Tyche came down the stairs. Do you remember where that is?”

Iole nodded furiously.

“Good. Can you show Jesse and Echo where that is? Jesse needs a quiet place to calm down.”

“I can show them.”

Sabé gave her a soft smile. “Good girl.” She cast one last look at the two troopers, nodded, murmured, “I am so sorry that this happened, Jesse,” and then she was gone.

Jesse could hear the activation of her own commlink as she quickly retraced her steps, could hear her murmured question to Rex  _ are you alright, it’s not real, do you feel safe, all troopers check in _ – and then it was only the two troopers and their young charge once more.

Iole patted Echo’s arms and pointed to the ground. He knelt and put her down without a word, crouching down to her level as she quietly regarded Jesse in what he was quickly discovering was a habit for the Naboo. It was the same look Rabé had given Fives when he asked her to spar, the same look Eirtaé had given her own cousin when they showed up in the Senator’s suite. A careful, dissecting look.

Her sea-glass green eyes carefully took in his own –  _ her mother had been the Queen _ and it showed in her eyes, in her steely gaze – as her hand rested on Echo’s arm.

Jesse tried smiling, tried assuaging her worries again. He waved a hand, ignoring the slight tremor in his fingers, as he said hoarsely, “It’s – it’s passing, Iole. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine in a moment.”

She made an unconvinced sound, and then started to fidget. “We should find a more comfortable spot, like where Lady Sabé said was a quiet place.”

“Yeah – okay.”

“You feeling up to moving, Jesse? We can also wait here until it passes a little more.”

“No, no. I… let’s go to that quiet place. You remember the way, Iole?”

She nodded once, firmly, and then reached forward for his hand. “I remember. I’ll take you there. I’ll take care of you now, Jesse.”

If he wasn’t still concentrating on calming his nerves, his racing heart, he would have laughed at the sheer determination in her little voice. Echo’s lips quirked up in a tiny smile as she reached for his hand, too. He rose and tucked his free arm under Jesse’s, helping him rise to his feet once more.

“You good?”

He was too exhausted, suddenly, to pretend. “I will be, I think.”

Echo nodded and clapped him gently on the shoulder, then glanced down. “Alright, Iole. Lead on.”

“It’s this way, Jesse. It’ll be quiet up there. We don’t have to watch the fireworks. We can sit somewhere quiet.”

“Okay, yeah… if you want. You don’t have to sit with me, Iole. Go watch the fireworks, if you want.” He didn’t want her to miss another moment of this extravagant event – though, he supposed, she might be very well used to such things by now – by spending it with him.

She looked so offended that Jesse couldn’t help but laugh as she retorted, “I don’t  _ want _ to if they make you feel scared. I want to sit with  _ you _ .”

“Ah. Alright, then, little one.” Jesse smiled softly as she led him with that same, determined, iron grip from earlier in the night. As they walked down the hall, the lights and the incessant roar of conversation, laughing music rose in a steady wave.

He hadn’t known where, exactly, his path of terror had taken him. He hadn’t been thinking straight, he hadn’t plotted the best course, the safest route. All he’d done was picked Iole up and run like their lives had depended on it. So he was surprised to realize, suddenly, that he’d almost made it back to the Senator’s suite. Yes, here was where the coat check had been not three hours earlier; here was where Akantha and Tyche had split from their group to go get ready with the other debutantes.

Instead of taking the grand stairway back towards the golden lights of the illuminated Great Hall, Iole slipped around a cleverly hidden corner and up an even more cleverly hidden stairway. Sabé had been right: as soon as they’d started up these steps, the sounds had instantly muffled.

Iole struggled for half of a flight with both her skirts and Jesse’s hand – the silks slipping out of her grip no matter how hard she tried – so once they reached the first landing Jesse bent suddenly and scooped her up, much to her shrieking giggles of delight.

He scampered up the rest of the steps as quickly as he dared, and then the hidden staircase deposited them onto the third-floor balcony. The golden illuminations of the floor, ceilings, walls were dimmer here; darker, calmer.

Quieter, too. Much quieter. Other groups with small children were sitting at the plush chairs scattered around this level – and if he had wanted, he could have gone up to the balcony railing and peered down over the Gala below.

No fireworks here. No fear. He could feel it leaving his system, ever so slightly, with each passing moment.

He finally felt like he could breathe again.

Iole politely patted his arms and he set her down. Once more she took his hand – peering around his legs to make sure Echo was still following (he was, and he was utterly charmed) – and led them to a caterer’s table draped in shimmering faint gold cloth. The Human working there had to lean over the top of the bar in order to see her.

“May we please have a glass of water? Please?”

They beamed at her. “So polite! Of course, of course, here you are…”

Drinks in hand, Iole then spun on her heels and led them to a shadowed booth. Shoving one of the glasses onto the dark wood table, she gestured at the seat and then at Jesse. Once he’d followed her orders, she passed the glass to him. “Lady Sabé said you’d need lots of water.” She pointed to the other glass. “That one’s for you, too.”

“You’re very good at taking care of me. Thank you.”

She beamed proudly and danced a little in place. “And there are no fireworks up here, either!” She cocked her head. “Listen – it’s just the music now!”

Jesse nodded, and then suddenly remembered something. “Oh, no, Iole – we lost the desserts from the lake…”

She’d dropped them when he’d grabbed her.

She blinked at him, like she was utterly confused as to how he’d missed something quite obvious. And then she smiled, pointed across the balcony, and said, “Don’t worry! There’s a lot more over there. And besides…” she shuffled her feet. “It was only cake. We can get more!”

From where he was leaning against the wall, bobbing his head in time to the music floating down from somewhere still above them, Echo sighed dramatically and pointed to himself. “And I suppose restocking the desserts is my job, then?”

“ _Y_ _ es, _ because  _ I’m _ taking care of Jesse,” Iole said simply, crossing her arms like that was the end of that.  Jesse smirked and took a delicate sip of water to prove her point.

“Ah-ha, I see how it is, little ‘un,” Echo said with mock seriousness, putting his hands on his hips. “What if I eat all of the desserts myself?”

Iole gasped. “You have to  _ share,  _ Echo!” Hands on her hips, she copied him, staring the ARC trooper down until he broke down laughing.

Jesse leaned against the surprisingly cool wall, cascades of dark gold shimmering about him, gentle music floating around him, the chilled glass of water forming condensation against the palms of his hands. His heart was calmer now, his head didn’t ache, his guts weren’t churning.

Relief quietly, gently, spread through his limbs, replacing any lingering fear and darkness left there.

Jesse sighed, and closed his eyes.

_ At ease, trooper. _

_ You’ve earned this rest. _


End file.
